Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 75

Trigger warning :) Sorry, but it's not that bad

You don't need to be a genius to know that Remington can't sleep. He turns over and over in bed until he's made himself dizzy, and sits up, checking that Sebastian is asleep before sliding out of bed. He is about to open the door when his brother talks. "Get back here," the man demands in a gentle voice, "I'm not letting you hurt yourself. Come back to bed."

Remington sighs and turns around. "I'm not gonna hurt myself," he protests, "I'm just gonna be sick." He doesn't really understand how he can just say it. Is that a good thing?

"So making yourself sick doesn't count as hurting yourself, does it not?" It's a stupid question, really. Of course it counts, and they both know it does. Remington just likes to pretend that there's nothing wrong with it. The boy is quiet. "Come here. No being sick tonight, bub."

Remington stays where he is. He thinks about turning and running. "But-"

"If you don't get back in bed I'm gonna pounce on you like a cat." The guitarist has his eyes firmly on his brother, ready to run after him if needs to. He refuses to let Remington inflict any sort of harm onto himself. "Remington, you're tired. You need sleep, not fingers down your throat."

It's been a while since he's been spoken to like this by Sebastian, and he missed it, in a strange way. "Sebastian, please-" he tries, glancing at the door behind him.

Shaking his head and getting out of bed, Sebastian takes the younger by his shoulders. "No." He pushes him towards the bed and closes the door.

Remington frowns. "Please."

"No. You know it isn't going to feel good after. It's going to hurt and you're going to feel guilty and hungry. Bed."

The boy shakes his head. "You don't understand. I just need to." He tries step past Sebastian, but is instead encased in, what he hates to admit, a very comforting hug. "I need to," he says again, making a feeble attempt at escaping his brother's arms.

Sebastian pulls him into bed and holds him to his chest. "What you need, pumpkin, is to settle down and go to sleep. I'm not letting go of you until I know you're not gonna run off to the bathroom. Just breathe."

"I hate you," the younger whispers, accepting that Sebastian isn't going to give in.

"I love you, too," Sebastian responds, "and don't you even think about waiting ten minutes and trying again."

Remington whines. He was thinking about that. "I'm never gonna be able to sleep." He turns around in his brother's arms and lets his head rest on the older's chest. "I want Andy." His voice is suddenly sad at the thought of Andy not being here for another four months.

Stroking his hair, Sebastian whispers, "I know," and grabs his hand. "Just breathe, close your eyes, and sleep. You're okay." The guitarist never understood how telling someone you're okay could help, but then he saw how it visibly eased Remington at moments like this, when things seem impossible. The reassurance is so important.

Early in the morning, just after four o'clock, Remington wakes in tears, shaken by the nightmare. He rubs his eyes and shuffles closer to Sebastian, who wakes at the movement and opens his arms for the teary boy. "Sorry," Remington whispers.

"Shush."

Though it isn't a surprise, it is upsetting when Remington bursts into tears at the mention of breakfast. He sits with his head on the table, sobbing, pushing Sebastian away when he tries to help. He just wants Andy.

You're so pathetic, he hears, in that awful voice that never let him be. I'm going to kill you tonight.

Remington flinches, like she's really there, like she's about to grab him and hold him do the floor. He won't lift his head up. He knows that if he does, she'll be there. It's better to just keep his eyes closed and hope he passes out.